Rogue Rising
by SassC HiJinx
Summary: When she left the mansion after taking the Cure, she left defeated, disillusioned and heartbroken. When she returned, however, she was changed. When she returned, she began to live up to her name. Romy.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, so please don't sue.

This is a little story on how Rogue got her groove back (or just a groove in general) after her character debacle in the X movies. This is for anyone who was disheartened by the water-downed portrayal of Rogue in the movies.

I'd like to turn this into a series, but no promises. I'm not sure plot-driven stories are my strong suit, but I'm going to try it anyway. Let me know how I'm doing, k?

***Prologue***

When she left the mansion two years ago, she left defeated, disillusioned and heartbroken. Taking the Cure hadn't salvaged her relationship with Bobby, and it sure as hell didn't make her a favorite around a mansion filled with mutants and proud of it. When she was honest with herself, she knew deep down she really took the Cure for herself, but it didn't change the fact that she also took it for her boyfriend. It was an awful truth that she'd never admit to anyone for fear of looking weak and pathetic. Funny how after taking the Cure that was exactly how she felt. She couldn't exactly be an X-Man without her powers and several of the mutant kids made it clear that she was no longer welcomed at the mansion. It didn't take Rogue long to realize she had to move on and find her own way in life - one that didn't include saving the world, living with a mansion of misfits or absorbing the life force of others.

So she hopped a bus back home to Meridian, Mississippi, ready to make peace with her past. She wanted to apologize to David for giving him the wallop of a kiss that left him in a coma for three weeks and try to amends with her estranged parents. Since she was a powerless mutant, or maybe not even a considered mutant at all since she was "cured," she hoped her apologies might be welcomed with open ears.

After the two-day, nearly non-stop journey by bus, she was home, and felt strangely at ease. When she returned to the river town, she did so with a self-assurance that she hadn't been able to muster since her powers kicked in. She was ready to live in this world as human as the next person. Walking confidently up the front walk of her former home, she knocked on the door, eager to see the face of the parents that disowned her for being a mutant and as her father put it "a freak."

However, she was stunned when an unfamiliar older woman with silvery gray hair knotted in a bun and dark glasses answered the door.

"I knew you would come, my dear," she said.

***x***

Sooo, what do y'all think? Good start? I'm nervous about writing this. It seems so... daunting. Btw, this will be Romy so keep your eyes peeled for the Cajun to make an appearance in a little while.


	2. A Deal with the Devil

Disclaimer: Nope, still can't claim ownership.

***x***

In all the different scenarios Rogue pictured her homecoming playing out meeting up with a de-powered Mystique and her blind companion Destiny was not one she had entertained. Staying with the two women for those two years was even more out of the realm of possibility, but to the disgraced mutant it was home.

Rogue knew Mystique as a trained assassin ruthless and cutthroat, determined to have her way by any means necessary. While not planning human man's downfall, Mystique - Raven as she was calling her human self - was caring and understanding towards Rogue, acting much like the older sister Rogue never had. And Irene was the mother figure. The women convinced Rogue to stay with them while she decided her next move.

For the first year and a half, Rogue was settled and centered. She lived a normal life as a normal 17-year-old girl. She went out with the local boys as Raven taught her foster daughter how to be more comfortable in her skin such as flirting and subtle moves to ensnare a man's attention without really trying.

It was, however, when Raven's powers came back that Rogue's peaceful life was ripped away from her. It was also around the same time that Rogue learned why the two women took her in - Destiny had saw in her visions that the Cure wasn't permanent. She saw both Mystique and Rogue regaining their powers - a future Raven herself was counting on. Feeling angry and betrayed, Rogue tried to run away - a move that was doomed to fail as Destiny had foresaw long before it happened. Living with a seer made any sort of planning difficult.

Accompanying a resisting Rogue back to her childhood home, Mystique carefully explained why they hadn't told Rogue of the Cure's unreliability and why it was unsafe for her to go out into the world by herself as a mutant. Among Destiny's visions, they told Rogue, was one of a woman by the name of Carol Danvers who would hunt Rogue for her power. The women urged the young mutant to take down Danvers before she could make the first strike. The image Irene painted was one that confused and frightened Rogue. She still had nightmares of her time at the Statue of Liberty where Magneto tried to drain her to power his machine. She carried a daily reminder of the hellish event as two snowy white streaks shockingly highlighted her dark hair, framing her face. The thought of someone else using her in that way sent cold tremors traversing her spine.

Though she dreaded the idea of having to take someone else out, according to Destiny's vision, it was killed or be killed, and Mystique was more than eager to share her superior fighting skills with Rogue. Rogue already knew basic fighting from her brief time as an X-Man so her training with Mystique built on those skills and then some. Rogue learned how to fight dirty (which Mystique claimed was necessary when battling those would do anything to win), how to be cunning and most importantly, how to use absorption to her advantage. While Mystique couldn't help Rogue control who she absorbed and when, she did help her foster daughter learn how to use the powers of others while keeping their psyches to a hush.

After six months of the intensive training, Destiny had told Rogue it was time to face the mutant known as Miss Marvel.

Rogue remembered feeling nauseous as she waited outside for Danvers to return to her San Francisco home. She had been more nervous of the thought of a showdown with this woman whom she had only recently learned had the ability to not only to fly but possessed superstrength and was near impossible to hurt. When Rogue had questioned her ableness to absorb such a mutant, Mystique had advised that Rogue hold on to the point incapacitating the other woman.

"It's the only way you'll know you've won, Rogue," she had said sternly. "Do you want a repeat of New York? Are you going to let someone use you like that again?"

And when the pretty blonde woman in question strolled to her front door, fumbling with her keys, Rogue made her move. It was hard to miss the woman's look of pure confusion as she was confronted but all Rogue could think of was Destiny's words, "She will kill you, Rogue, if you let her. She wants her powers and will do anything to get them. Don't let her, my dear. Don't let her."

Rogue grabbed Carol's hand, her face, any uncovered skin as the stronger woman struggled. But Rogue wouldn't let go. She couldn't. It was her or Miss Marvel, and there was no way Rogue was losing this battle. Carol's psyche and power trifecta flowed into Rogue. This absorption was different than the others and the young mutant couldn't help but think of how powerful she could be. Though she had never felt this way while using her power, Rogue continued her tight grip. As Carol finally sunk to the ground unconscious, Rogue knew she had won - she had saved herself from yet another mutant who wanted her power and would kill to get it- and victoriously flew away to meet her foster mothers.

***x***

It didn't take Rogue long to realize that she had been duped, and by the very women she had come to love and trust. Miss Marvel had never wanted to hurt her - hadn't even known who Rogue was. She realized that prolonged skin-to-skin contact with another mutant led to the permanent addition of powers and their personality. With Miss Marvel's super strength, flying ability and near-invulnerabilty came the addition of a very intelligent, very angry Carol Danvers. Despite her psyche blocking exercises Rogue had learned, Carol wouldn't stay quiet.

The days after her encounter with Miss Marvel were spent trying to keep her sanity. Destiny and Mystique hadn't counted on the fact that for Rogue to fully absorb another mutant it would interfere with their plans. They had wanted a powered-up Rogue to resurrect the Brotherhood of Mutants. Or in this case, as it was just the three women, the Sisterhood. But as Rogue spun out of control, many times with Carol Danvers' psyche coming to the forefront - with one particularly harrowing event where Rogue, under Miss Marvel's control, held a standoff with Mystique, using Destiny as bait - the women knew they needed to go to drastic lengths to help their daughter and proceed with their plans for mutant dominance.

As much as Mystique loathed to contact him there was only one person who could help the girl for whom she had grown fond of -- even if the girl had started out as a means to an end. Dr. Nathaniel Essex was known to the mutant world as a brilliant geneticist. If anyone could help Rogue regain control of her mind and perhaps even her poison skin, it was Essex. The man known as Sinister had questionable methods, but he was brilliant at what he did. And what he did was research and manipulate mutant genetics. Mystique knew of no other options. She called the doctor and set the appointment. Though Essex assured Mystique he could help, she had a sinking feeling that she had sold Rogue's soul to the devil, as she return the phone to its cradle.

The mutant women brought an unconscious Rogue to a non-descript building in the Arizonan desert. Pumped full of enough sedatives to kill 20 large men (a low estimate considering Rogue's newly acquired invulnerability made it near impossible to adminster a sedative and keep her incapacitated), Rogue was brought to Sinister.

As Rogue's limpless body was settled on the operating table, Essex surveyed her with the calculated appraisal of scientist about to embark on his greatest experiment yet. It was a look that chilled Mystique, a woman who had both seen horrid atrocities and perpetuated them, to the bone. At this point, Rogue started to stirred, her eye lids struggling to open. A heavy confusion settled into her muddled brain, and she could half make out that she was in some sort of hospital or operating room. She let a half-cry as a pair of demon eyes came into view. The figure was blurry, but the eyes - a cold red puncturing the haziness - left her frightened.

"Dear Rogue," she thought she heard the demon say calmly, "you are about to have everything you've ever wanted. Just relax." He had inserted a small plastic tube into a vein in her left hand and then she remembered nothing.

***x***

The procedure involved Essex making a small incision towards the back of Rogue's head - to the parietal lobe. It wasn't until after the surgery that Rogue realized the price of Essex helping her. He left the groggy mutant girl with an exact promise that he would be in contact.

A couple days later, Rogue awoke in a panic. She was at home and in her own bed, and remembered faint pieces of her brief time with Sinister. The memories of the past few weeks - the total absorption of Miss Marvel, the betrayal of her guardians, the struggle to maintain control against the powerful and destructive Danvers psyche, the quick surgery with a questionable doctor... Then it hit her. Carol was gone. Not completely, Rogue knew innately, but locked behind a closed door of sorts in her mind. Rogue was in control here.

Though a meeting with her maligned mothers a short time later confirmed one thing - she could in fact touch without impunity. She could control her power. She would have been estastic if that truth hadn't come without a price.

As Mystique explained her control was a result of an operation with a scientist named Sinister, a name that didn't exactly inspire traquility in Rogue. The blue-skinned mutant confirmed that Sinister's service did not come free. Rogue would be called upon to help him as he needed.

"You agreed ta that?!" Something inside Rogue exploded. It wasn't enough that she had been used and tricked into almost-fatally absorbing another mutant who nearly drove her insane. Now she was recovering from crack brain surgery performed by a creepy doctor who apparently had her at his beck and call. Mystique gently but firmly assured Rogue owed Essex one job, and one job only.

Overwhelmed and scared by the information, Rogue bolted from the house, taking to the sky at supersonic speed. Her only intent was to get as far away as she could. She flew until the adrenaline wore off, leaving her bonelessly tired.

Later she returned home, quietly packed some belongings, grabbed her keys to the shiny, red convertible Mystique had given her for her 18th birthday (nothing but the best when you roll with Mystique, she thought sardonically) and gunned it out of the driveway, never looking back, impatient to put as many miles between her and the two mutants she had come to think of as family. They had used her for the last time. As she took a corner sharply, the sports car easily navigating the change in the road's direction, she mused faintly that she was once again running from her life and from her home.

***x***

Pulling up to the mansion's impressive gates, Rogue exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her heart was beating out of her chest and her hands were sweating uncomfortably inside the driving gloves she was wearing. She was more nervous about returning to Westchester than she thought she would be. If she had half a brain, she would'veturned around and kept driving, but she needed them, the X-Men. For better or worse, she was home.

Tugging on her gloves, which were a sweaty mess inside, she rolled down her car window and nervously pushed the call button.

"Xavier's. State yer business," came the gruff response. That voice that had lived in her head for so long was now barking at her through the tinny sound system and she could've cried from the familiarity of it. It only seemed right that Wolverine would be the gatekeeper who would accept or deny her entrance onto the mansion's grounds.

Taking a deep breath, she announced herself. "It's Rogue."


	3. Homecoming

Disclaimer: I could never claim ownership of these characters or plot (both movie and comic) and still respect myself in the morning.

***x***  
When he heard the call bell, he couldn't believe his well-worn eyes at the sight the security feed showed him. Was the old man's eyes playing tricks on him or was that Rogue seeking entrance? His Rogue. The young girl who so desperately needed his help all those years ago. The girl who bailed on him and everyone else two years ago without warning.

If the video wasn't enough evidence, then the soft Southern lilt confirmed the girl's identity. It was Rogue. She had returned. There were so many things he wanted to say but not over an intercom. He buzzed her in without further conversation.

He stood there on the steps just staring at her. As she exited her car and tentatively approached the man who had saved her all those years ago, Rogue braced herself for a verbal dressing down by the Wolverine. Out of all the possible scenarios of her reunion with Logan, she hadn't pictured the soft version.

"Hey, Logan."

"Aw, kid," he said as swept her up in a bear hug. The ferocity of the embrace would have been enough to make her weep with joy if she was still the sensitive girl she was two years ago. She didn't cry so much anymore.

"Ya know, Ah would like to breathe again at some point," she laughed as she hugged him back.

Logan pulled away back but kept a firm grip of her shoulders. "Breathe?" he said gruffly. "I should be wiping the floor with yer ass after the stunt you pulled disappearing like that. It's been two years, Rogue. Where the hell were you?" He pointedly took in her covered state of dress - in addition to wearing driving gloves, a navy blue blazer covered by a long-sleeved tee with her slim-fitting jeans tucked into calf-length leather boots. A linen scarf was wrapped stylishly around her neck. It confirmed the suspicion that passed through his mind when Rogue buzzed in - her powers had returned.

Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Oh, like ya never pull a disappearing act."

"Not the same thing, kid, and you know it. Besides, I always came back."

"As have Ah," she said simply. He cocked his eyebrow at the response. Rogue, the meek girl that had stowed away in his beat-up trailer in Canada, had matured into a beautiful young woman. Not only that but she carried a self-assurance that sure as hell hadn't been there before. And if he looked close enough, he could see a haunted look in her pretty green eyes. It was the look of pain and disappointment he had hoped she'd never have to see.

"I'll respect yer privacy because I'm glad to see ya but I'm gonna want some answers, Rogue." He let his hands drop and took a step back.

Looking somewhere north of his eyes, she answered vaguely. "And you'll get them."

They stood at the top of the steps eyeing each other as if they wanted to say more but were unable to find the words to articulate their many thoughts. They were interrupted by a chocolately rich voice that Rogue regarded as music to her ears.

"Oh my goddess... Rogue? Is it really you?"

Appearing at the heavy wooden double doors at the mansion's front was the school's headmistress, Storm. Her blue eyes were wide with disbelief as she eyed the young woman standing with Logan, her signature white streak framing her pretty face. Rogue beamed a friendly smile towards her former mentor.

Ororo had initially been frosty to Rogue after she had learned the troubled girl had taken the Cure. But after seeing how the rest of the mansion's occupants reacted and seeing her own prejudices in their behavior, the X-Men's new leader quickly reconsidered her attitude. Instead of ridiculing the girl, she became Rogue's confidant - building her up when the rest of the mansion was poised to write her off as a traitor.

So when she discovered Rogue had left the mansion for good, she was shocked. And confused. She and Rogue had grown close in those short months. She knew life at the mansion had been hard for the former mutant, but she had never once been given the impression that it was so unbearable that Rogue would need to escape. Part of Ororo had felt guilty the girl had been driven away and she hadn't even realized how bad it was before it was too late.

"Rogue..." was all the weather witch could utter. She was so stunned to see the girl, but quickly recovered. "You had better get over here and hug me," she said, hands on her hips.

Rogue's smile growing wider with relief and she crossed over to embrace Storm. Wrapping her arms around the taller woman, Rogue reflected how there was no hesitation in either of her former teammates' embraces. Before the Cure, most of the mansion's occupants, Bobby included, carefully moved around Rogue, always conscious of the girl's uncontrollable power. Though she had no reason to shy away from physical contact now, she had arrived at her former home covered as if her skin was poison to the touch once more. She wanted to keep it that way. She would let them assume the Cure wore off and that's why she had returned. Still... knowing that they showed no reluctance in welcoming her home despite the fact that - to their knowledge - the slightest touch of her skin of theirs could render them unconscious warmed Rogue's heart. Maybe everything would work out, she mused cautiously.

Breaking the embrace, Ororo put Rogue's gloved hands into her own. "I hope you will be staying with us for a while then?"

"If ya don't mind," Rogue answered somewhat sheepishly.

Ororo smiled. "Of course not."

Eyeing the flashy car Rogue rolled up in, Logan asked, "Where'd you get the wheels, kid?"

"It, uh, was a present." Technically, that was true.

Suspicous, Logan cocked a questioning eyebrow. "Ya got a sugar daddy?"

Rogue just laughed. "Somethin' like that." No, Logan, she thought. Just a pair of pyschotic, manipulative sugar mamas.

***x***

Word spread quickly around the mutant estate that Rogue was back and she was different. Her demeanor, the way she carried herself - it smacked of confidence and self-strength... and sexiness even. The Rogue that had returned was most assuredly not the one who left.

When she came back she was changed, the students murmured. She was self-confident and yielded a whole lot more attitude. She actually began living up to her codename. She had long since ditched the moniker of Marie. It wasn't her real name anyway - not entirely.

Rogue was eager to get back into the groove of being an X-Man. Many of her former friends and teammates assumed she had returned because her uncontrollable power was back, and she let them. She covered up and was cautious around others. Just as Rogue never admitted her absorption power was under control, they didn't confront her with their thoughts that she returned because of its resurgence. In fact, she had overheard some of the mansion's residents whisper about how long it took for the Cure to wear off on Rogue considering other mutants' powers had returned within a year. She also didn't correct that assumption, either. The Cure definitely wore off in a year's time, but... she had spent the last year under Mystique's tutelage, an admission she didn't quite yet care to share with the team.

In one particular Danger Room practice, a hologram Sentinal had thrown her into a building. She was fine, of course, thanks to her acquired Miss Marvel powers, but she was reluctant to share them with the team. So she laid crumpled among the simulated rubble, allowing the rest of the team to gather around her and help her up. She hobbled out of the room, on the arm of Colossus, hoping her limp looked real. She steadfastly refused medical attention, despite Beast's protests. How would she be able to explain her lack of bruising and injuries?

As she reintegrated into life at the mansion, she was able to catch on all the gossip. For example, Kitty had quickly moved on from Bobby to the Russian hunk of metal, Colossus, shortly after Rogue left. Rogue couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Bobby, who had grown close to the petite girl as a result of his frustration to his and Rogue's relationship, be left without anyone. It was petty, she knew, but not all together unjustified.

One of her first times back in the Danger Room was a cathartic experience. So when she suited up in her old X-Man uniform to face off against Iceman, she did her best to restraint her superstrength and her urge to take flight to avoid shots of ice blasted her way. The invulnerability thing? Well, she made the appropriate moans and groans the few times she had allowed him to get a jab in.

It turns out, the Rogue that returned was also a skilled fighter, the others noted. Not that Rogue had been a slouch before, but there was something about her honed and concentrated fighting techniques that both intrigued and troubled Wolverine. Despite being downright proud of her take-no-prisoners attitude, he couldn't quell the persistent part in his mind that questioned why a girl who, in her own words, was "cured and off to see the world" had learned to fight with such dexterity and finesse. If she wasn't an X-Man, why would she need to know how to fight with such masterfulness beyond basic self-defense?

Nothing about Rogue's return made much sense to him. Still, when she managed to disable Iceman and win the one-on-one match, he couldn't help but admit that whatever she'd experience the last two years away from them had turned her into a self-assured woman. Something, he'd noted with alarming guilt, the X-Men hadn't been able to do.

***x***  
Taking someone down had never felt so good, Rogue thought as she peered at a shocked and defeated Bobby as she towered over him. She gave him a small self-satisfied smirk as she sauntered away in victory.

They say revenge is a dish best served cold, and she was definitely craving something icy. She wondered if the mansion's had any ice cream on hand because in addition to being frosty, revenge was most definitely sweet.  
She walked past the awe-inspired stares of the others as she strolled down the basement hallway from the Danger Room to the girls' locker room when Logan caught up with her. In truth, she didn't even need a shower. She had barely broken a sweat.

"Whaddya call that, kid? Workin' through yer shit?" she heard Wolverine call after her.

"Ah might have some unresolved issues," she acknowledged as she kept walking.

He let out what might have been construed as a laugh as he caught up with her. "Knew ya had it in ya."

She simply shrugged her shoulders. As they made their way from the Danger Room, he decided to have that heart to heart with Rogue that he had been pondering since her return. Starting casually, he asked, "How're ya adjusting to life back at the mansion?"

She waited a minute before responding, making sure to choose her words carefully. It s nice. Ah mean it s good to be back. Ah just had to work through some stuff, ya know?

Logan pinned her with a pointed look. He always could see through her. "Care to talk about some of that stuff? Ya know, I'm always here fer you, kid."

"Ah know. And Ah appreciate it, Logan, really Ah do, but Ah'm just not ready."

He gave a nod. "Okay. You know where to find me."

"Ah do," she replied, wanting more than anything to tell him everything. But how disappointed would he be in her? Would they all be? For as long as she could keep her past a secret, she would.

"Thanks," she murmured as she continued to the locker room.

***x***

Later that day, she was lounging by the pool in her bikini - covered up with a sarong, of course - reading "To Kill A Mockingbird," one of her favorite books. She enjoyed her downtime and tended to avoid contact with the mansion's residents. They were too curious about where she had been, asked too many questions. She hated having to lie to them so it was easier to not say anything at all. And, fortunately, this time around she had her own room. She was at the climax of the book when Atticus Finch had successfully gotten Tom Robinson exonerated of all rape charges when Nightcrawler, who was now a full-time member of the X-Men, bamfed next to her, filling the air with a heavy scent of sulfur hanging in the air.

"Hey, Rogue," he greeted in his German accent, which had lessened slightly since Rogue last saw him. "This came for you."

Crinkling her brow in confusion, she accepted the envelope and murmured her thanks as he teleported away as quickly as he came. She examined the envelope - no return address. Simply her name scrawled across the front. So it was dropped off, she concluded. Who would send her anything? No one knew where she was. Her heart seemingly dropped to her stomach as she apprehensively opened it and extracted a single piece of paper.

"Fairest Rogue-  
It's impolite to fail to leave a forwarding address. Running out on Mystique does not nullify our agreement nor does it mean you are free of your obligation to me. Having clarified that, I have use of you. One that will require you to retrieve a mutant and present him to me."

The rest of the note detailed the specifics of their meeting.

Sinister had finally come to collect his debt.

***x***  
A/N: Anyone catch the sliver of Evo's "Cajun Spice" dialogue between Wolverine and Rogue? Had to slip it in there!

And brace yourself, dear readers: Gambit's making his appearance next chapter.


	4. Reluctant Mission

Disclaimer: Even a year later, these characters and their origins still aren't mine. Maybe even less so than before since it's been so long.

A/N: Hey guys. It's been... awhile. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Life got... chaotic. But here's the first part of Chapter 3. Yes, there's another part, and *gasp* it's mostly written already! I would've posted the chapter in its entirety but I wanted to get this part out of the way to see if there's still interest in the story.

***x***

It took her a day to drive from New York to New Orleans. She kept her pit stops to a minimum, just wanting to get the whole thing over with. She told Wolverine that needed to tie up some loose ends. He accepted the vague explanation with a doubtful look but said nothing. At least this time she was letting someone know she was leaving. She promised to return in a day or so.

Her mission, if she could call it that, was to secure a mutant by the name of Gambit and deliver him to Sinister who would be waiting in a warehouse outside city limits. The mutant geneticist had e-mailed Rogue Gambit's dossier so she had a face and a description to go with a name. Gambit, aka Remy LeBeau, gambler, ladies' man, thief. The file had it all, including his affiliation with an organization called the Thieves Guild. By the time she was finished reading the file, she knew everything on the mutant called Gambit except why Sinister wanted him.

But the why didn't concern her. As far as she knew after this job, she was done with Sinister and she could finally cut all ties with her past.

As she entered the jazz club, all eyes were on her. The smooth, seductive rythym filled the heady air as she surveyed the bar keeping an eye out for a tall man with auburn hair and a peculiar set of eyes. Several men approached and she nonchalantly turned them away. She approached the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. She was conservatively sipping the drink when she felt herself being watched. She inconspicuously surveyed the room until she saw that he had creeped by her side.

"Buy y' a drink, _chère_?" came a smooth voice laced with an authentic Cajun accent.

Rogue smiled. "Already got one, sugah." Gambit was attractive she admitted, very attractive, and his eyes... His eyes were most unique. Red irises surrounded by a sea of black. She had only seen one other person with red eyes and the very thought of them sent cold shivers down her spine. But Gambit's eyes were different. They reminded her of the burning embers of a warm, comforting fire. She had heard the adage of getting lost in someone's eyes, but she always brushed it off as nonsense best saved for Harlequin novels. But maybe the romance writers had been onto something...

"That ain't a drink," he said, indicating her gin and tonic before downing the last of his bourbon.

"No? Well, then, what'd ya have in mind, sugah?"

He chuckled at the double entendre. He signaled the bartender for a drink. Obviously, the man was used to filling drink orders for the sultry Cajun's latest conquest.

His eyebrows rose appreciatively. "Y' on de wrong side of de river, _chère_. What brings y' t' m' neck o' de woods?"

"Ah'm sure you mean bayous," she corrected him. "But give the man a prize. Ya know your dialects."

"Know a lot of t'ings, _chère_."

"Really?" she said, cocking her head to the side flirtatiously. Those lessons from Mystique were coming in handy at the moment. "Ya know how ta show a gal a good time, sugah?"

He animatedly exclaimed something in French. "That be m' speciality. Remy LeBeau, at y' service," he said, bowing slightly.

She smiled again. Gotcha, she thought miserably. She hated that she had to betray him to Sinister but reasoned that if he was involved with the shady doctor, then maybe he wasn't so upstanding. Although, she was attached to the man, so what did that say about her?

"Anna," she said, extending her gloved hand. He clasped it lightly and brought it up to his lips. "_Enchantè_. Beautiful name."

"Thanks." He still held her hand and his mesmerizing eyes held her gaze. It was hard to look away. Then she realized the longer she spent with this man, the harder it would be to do what she came to the Crescent City to do.

"Ya think we could go some place a lil' quieter? More private?"

He smiled. "Got jus' de place."

She allowed him to lead her out of the crowded bar, making sure the shifty Cajun kept his thieving hands to himself. He kept his hand pressed lightly to the small of her back like a complete gentleman. He opened the door for her that led to the outside, and though the humidity from the day clung to the night air, Rogue found it oddly refreshing.

Just do it, she silently coached herself. Just do it, then it's done. Then you can go home and start your life. Her heart pounded fiercely and she could hear the vague angry whispers of Carol Danvers as she struggled to maintain her cool exterior. But then he was in front of her, gently pressing her against the bar's brick facade as they exited the bar and leaning in for a kiss. Again, she was mesmerized by his eyes - they seemed to pulsate ever so slightly...

"Pretty eyes," she breathed.

He reached forward to touch her face and close the gap between their bodies.

"Uh uh," she said, softly batting his hand away, though his face still hovered before hers. "Don't touch."

He chuckled, his hand instead dropping to her neck. His eyes seemed to be burning brighter than before. From the start his ember eyes captivated her, now more so. She would willing lose herself in those burning orbs that had seemingly etched themselves into her mind. Maybe she could just indulge a little before fulfilling her duty. His warm lips were grazing hers and she wanted so badly to...

Then it hit her. He was doing something with his strangely-colored eyes. Hynoptizing her... She abruptly pushed him off her. He stumbled back at first, but quickly recovered.

"That's a neat trick," she archly said.

"Didn't seem t' be mindin' it much," he retorted with a lopsided grin. So, this seduction technique was amusing to him, she thought sourly.

Undetered, she straightened her back and readied for a fight. "Thanks, swamp rat. You've just made my job easier."

"Ah, _mon chère_. And what job might dat be?" he asked with a hint of amusement as he reached inside his duster.

"The job that sets me free."

***x***


	5. Mission Incomplete

"The job that sets me free."

As the words left her mouth, she lunged for the Cajun mutant. He was ready for her, though, and dodged her right hook. They parried back and forth, both meeting the other's moves jab for jab, kick for kick. They broke apart from each other, both heaving for breath and eyeing the other warily. Remy was confused. He had gotten a few good hits in and swiped her with one of his charged-up cards. Nothing seemed to faze the girl.

"Don' really wanna fight y', _chère_. C'n t'ink of more pleasureable t'ings t' do," he leered, three playing cards tinged with a pretty magenta glow.

"Ah'm sure, swamp rat," she tossed back in mock sweetness, "but why would ya wanna stop when we're having so much fun?"

He nodded. "Always did enjoy a good rumble. 'Specially when it's wit' a _femme_ who has a body like yours." His eyes traced up and down her body appreciatively.

She snorted. "Let's just finish this, all right?"

Almost simultaneously he grabbed her waist, swung her to the ground and settled himself on top of her. "Now dis is what we should've been doing all along, hmm?"

She had Gambit right where she wanted him. She had yet to use Danvers' powers and now he had given her the perfect opportunity. "Couldn't agree more," she grunted as she fluidly threw him off her and clear across the alleyway.

Stunned by the girl's strength, he struggled to get up. "Who are y', _chère_?"

"Jus' someone repayin' a debt." Without another word, she closed the distance and knelt in front of his crumpled body. Her face closed in on him. "I'm sorry," she whispered just before she kissed him fully, letting her skin sink him into oblivion. She pulled away tentatively as she tucked her new psyche safely behind the psionic walls that held all the others. She sat on top of his firm body, sighing as she knew half the job was over. She had secured the mutant. Now all she had to do was deliver him. She lifted his unconscious body with ease, thanks to her boosted strength. "I am sorry, Gambit," she repeated, regretfully. "but Ah'm gonna need ya ta come with me, sugah."

***x***

She had gotten pretty adept at containing the psyches and powers of the people she absorbed, thanks to Mystique, but sometimes personalities and vices spilled over. For example, she knew Gambit was a smoker from the way she - a non-smoker - was desperately craving a cigarette. So much so that she had to stop at the nearest gas station and buy a pack. Or three.

As she took that first satisfying drag, she could feel her new companion's psyche relax tenfold. Standing next to her car, she glanced at the eye-catching mutant. He was still out cold and would be for a little longer. Her eyes raked over his handsome face, the strong angles softened as he slept. His shaggy auburn hair fell attractively over his sleeping face and though she couldn't see his eyes, those burning orbs were torched in her memory. They were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. Even though he had similar red eyes as the whack doctor Essex, they were nothing like the psychopath's. Remy's eyes were warm and inviting, tender. Essex's eyes were cold and unyielding.

"Like somet'ing y' see, _chère_?"

Startled, she almost dropped her cigarette. The voice was so clear she thought he had awoken. Looking at Gambit's slumped over form, she realized his psyche had broken through.

Letting out an annoyed breath, she forcibly shoved the Cajun mutant's psyche back in her mental container. Carol was the only one who ever got out so the fact Gambit's psyche did it unnerved her and proved he was quite strong.

She stood there puffing on the cigarette and contemplated her next move. The longer she had Gambit in her custody, the more she was losing her nerve to finish the job. All she had to do was give him to Sinister. The hard part, she reasoned, was over. So, why was she having second thoughts now?

She knew why. Even in her brief acquaintance with Essex, she knew the debauchery he was capable of. Everything he did may have been in the name of science, but his bedside manner and methods were sketchy at best, disturbing at worst. She didn't doubt that Essex's repayments often came in the form of IOUs. How many of his patients were in the same position as she was now? What if Gambit was and she was perpetuating the vicious cycle?

No, she decided. She was going to end it. She had to. She didn't care what Mystique promised. She was her own woman now and she didn't owe anything to anyone.

***x***

It was about an hour later when the mutant known as Gambit awoke from his forced slumber, groaning. "_Mon Dieu_, _chèrie_, what in God's name did you sock me wit'?"

"Mornin', sunshine," she drawled.

"Did I have a good time at least?" he grumbled, still rubbing his head, which was no doubt throbbing thanks to her.

"Sure, sugah, if your idea of a good time includes gettin' knocked out by a girl."

He grinned slightly. "Always, _chère_."

"Sorry 'bout that, by the way. It's business, ya understand. Nothing personal."

"_Non, je comprends_. Do what y' gotta do."

"Yeah," she replied slowly. "Sometimes ya do." Her mind flashed on the sometimes impossible and morally questionable tasks she performed under her tutelage with Mystique. But she had returned to the mansion in hopes of putting those days behind her. She wasn't a terrorist, she told herself, no matter how much Mystique and Destiny had tried to convince her it was foreseen.

"So what's a nice, belle femme like you doing working for Sinister?"

She stiffened at the name. "Who?" she asked casually, feigning ignorance.

"Don't ever play poker, _chère_," he said darkly, "y' ain't got a game face. Figure he's behind de kidnapping. Hafta say, dough, he picked a hell of a kidnapper." He threw her a quick grin for good measure.

"Ah'm not- Ah mean," she stammered. Sighing, she started again. No more lies. "Ah was supposed to collect and deliver you to Essex but Ah changed mah mind. Ah'm not taking you to that mad man anymore."

A flash of curiosity and surprise played upon his handsome features. "And where pray tell are we going, _chère_? Back to your place, I hope?"

She smirked despite herself because for better or worse, it was. "In a manner of speaking..."

***x***

As she punched the code into the front gates, Remy let out a low whistle.

"Some home y' got."

Embarrassed, she fumbled with the gear shift. "Yeah, it's not really mah home. But it is a place that's safe. For mutants."

"So what's an X-Man doin' working for Essex? Your teammates know of y' extracurricular?"

Stunned, she braked the car and turned to look at him. "How do ya-"

"Surely heard of de X-Men before. Know dey got a set-up in Westchester. Big mansion, state-of-de-art security. Makes sense dis is it. But how do y' fit in?" he said, leaning in closer to her as if he was ready to hear her tell a secret.

Pulling back a little, "Ah, Ah'm not on the team exactly," she hesitated. "And Ah don't work for Essex so there's no need ta be bringin' him up in front of them!" she added more forcefully.

He laughed. "After flagrantly disobeyin' an order, 'm sure y' don't work for him no more. He doesn't take disobedience lightly."

"Ah never worked for him. Ah had ta-" she stopped herself before she blurted her story out to him. She wasn't ready to tell it. More so, she wasn't sure she could trust him. Not even her former teammates knew.

"Had t' what?"

"Never mind. Look, Ah didn't have ta bring ya here. Ah coulda dumped ya off and been done with it. Ah'm riskin' my neck bringin' you here in more ways than one. Could ya please," her green eyes pleading with him, "just go along with it?"

"Right, _chère_. Since y' askin' so nicely. But surely would like t' be in de loop on what y' got t' do wit' Essex and de X-Men, and why y' so keen on savin' ol' Remy."

She sighed. "It's complicated."

"As all good tales are. Seein' as 'm here for who-know-how-long, figure y' got time t' tell it."

Raising an eyebrow, "Ah've seen your profile, Gambit," biting off his mutant name. "Ah know of your connections with the Thieves Guild and your status as a master thief. Can't imagine as house full of mutants could keep ya any place you don't wanna be."

"_Touch__è_," he acknowledged with a nod. "All I c'n say is y' got me intrigued. Got t' stick around t' see where a _belle femme_ such as y'rself fits into it." His left hand was suddenly stroking with her hand that rested of the gear shift in a way that could almost be described as intimate. "Dough if dis is a double cross of any sort, don't count on me being so nice dis time around. Don't take too kindly to being knocked out twice. In a manner of speakin', 'course." The words with spoken in jest, but his meaning was clear. If she betrayed him, she'd live to regret it. She jerked his hand away.

"Ah know ya don't trust me, and Ah don't blame ya, but Ah'm tellin' the truth. It IS complicated and Ah'll try ta explain it the best Ah can, but for right now all you need ta know is that they" she said pointing to the mansion, "don't know about mah involvement with Essex, and Ah'm not ready to explain."

She put the car in gear once more and drove toward the mansion before she continued.

"One more thing. Ah'd appreciate it if ya didn't mention the super strength and invulnerability. They don't know about those powers."

"What do they know, _p'tit_?"

"That my name is Rogue." She paused. "And that Ah took the Cure, and returned when it wore off." She got out of the car to retrieve the bags she packed for her "trip," leaving Remy stunned at the new piece of information.

This girl, Rogue, who ever she was, was a mystery he couldn't resist solving.

***x***

Just a note: Wolverine: XO doesn't exist in this story. So Gambit is not much older than Rogue and has never met Wolverine. Okay? Okay.


	6. Problematic Introductions

A/N: Big shout-out to my amazing and slightly unhinged (but in the best way) beta and partner in crime, CatBru.

And a double shout-out to two lovely reviewers: Lucky's Girl and BetweenTheHedges, whose reviews gave me the motivation to finally finish the chapter.

***x***

She knew returning with a slightly beat up and annoyingly sexy Cajun was going to raise eyebrows. She just didn't anticipate how much. A large number of the mansion's occupants took a notable interest in the deliciously foreign mutant. Most were simply curious; the females were envious that Rogue knew such a person. But not everyone was so thrilled by the mansion's newest guest.

Namely, Logan and Bobby.

"This is what you went gallivantin' off for," Wolverine had muttered. Rogue had shot him a nasty look, to which the cantankerous mutant had only grunted. Sighing internally, Rogue knew he wasn't finished with her.

And Bobby Her former boyfriend had tried to mask a look of hurt by projecting a look of cool disinterest, but his facial muscles were too stiff to pull it off. Part of her felt somewhat bad for causing him pain and she had found herself impulsively wanting to explain that there was nothing between Remy and her. But the other half, the part that remembers looking out the window that warm spring night and seeing Bobby and Kitty atop the Ice Man-made frozen fountain about to kiss... that half of her felt vindicated. Why should he care who she brought him? They were no longer together and hadn't been for years.

As for Remy, he stayed quiet and enjoyed watching Rogue fumble over the story as to why he was here with her. She glossed over the details but explained that she had met Remy during her time away and that she left to help him with a sensitive issue that he had been dealing with (Remy tried not to smirked at how delicate an issue it was), and decided the best course of action was to bring him to the mansion.

Not technically a lie, Rogue reasoned internally. At least she bought some time to figure what to do with him now that he was here. She admitted to herself that she hadn't fully thought out the plan. Real concerns about how long was he going to stay and what Essex was going to do next bombarded her mind.

She had managed to snag a moment to herself outside by that cursed fountain later on while she left Remy in his new quarters after making him promise to stay put and not talk to anyone until she returned for him. She didn't quite trust him not to cause problems for her with the others but she desperate needed a sliver of peace to plan what to do next. She fretted at the thought of Essex coming after her, and most likely, Remy, and wondered how grand of an idea it was to both be here. In almost certainty, she had painted a big, ol' bull's eye on the X-Men mansion.

"Ya know, Rogue, when you tie up loose ends, you don't typically take 'em home with you."

She jumped at his gruff voice. She took a deep breath before turning around to face the stern face of the Wolverine. She had been expecting this.

"It ain't like that, Logan. We're just friends, and he needed my help," she replied, giving him a pointed look. Actually they weren't even that. Friends, anyway. They were more like unwilling acquaintances bound together by a mad scientist.

He gave her a disbelieving look. "He guilt you into takin' him back? Lemme guess. Broke yer heart when the Cure wore off, which is when you came back here. And now he wants you back? After that episode with Ice Cube, thought you'd know better."

Logan struck the right nerve, and he knew it.

It took all of Rogue's power (and Carol's) not to throw him to the moon. Instead, she clenched her fist and snapped, "What part of 'we're just friends' don't you understand? It's possible for me to be tellin' you the truth without you havin' to embellish it. So, drop it."

"Tell ya what, kid. I'll drop it when I know what's really going on with you. You disappeared two years ago, don't say a word 'bout where yer going, and return as if nothing ever happened. And yer askin' me to trust you?"

"Ah told you that Ah would explain when Ah was ready. And Ah'm still not ready so could you please just drop it?" The pleading eyes she gave him pulled on his heartstrings.

Damn it, he thought. He had had a soft spot for the skunk-headed mutant girl since he found her as a cold and hungry stowaway in his trailer.

"Fine," he bit off. "But that time is coming soon whether ya like it or not." He skulked back to mansion, not doubt in search of a cold beer and a little Danger Room action. Better yet, he'd call a pop drill session. He always enjoyed working his frustration out on the recruits. Yeah, he smiled, that would do it.

Rogue turned back around to face the fountain and watched the water move fluidly from the spout to the base. She felt decidedly more troubled than she did before she sought quiet.

***x***

Remy had humored Rogue into thinking he'd sit tight in his room, which was nice but too banal with its full-size four-poster bed, a nightstand, a dresser, a mirror and decent-sized closet. And a balcony, the thief pleasantly noted. A thief always liked to know where his exits were at all times, and this one would be convenient.

But he wasn't ready to bolt yet. He was inside the X-Men headquarters. More importantly, he wasn't done with Rogue. The girl had genuinely intrigued him, unlike all the others girls who he kept around to pass the time. And knowing how vindictive Sinister was when he didn't get his way, she would need his help down the line.

He made his way through the mansion, noting its ornate woodwork and pricey art pieces. The fortune the late Charles Xavier had amassed and put on display was amazing. And then there was the technologically advanced equipment Cerebro, the SR-71 Blackbird and the Danger Room, the latter of which was a rumored high-tech training room that he had heard was located in the basement. Maybe it was time to get down to business, Gambit mused.

Elusively making his way from the third level to the basement was a piece of cake. Even for an unforgettable person like Gambit, it was easy for him to go unnoticed when he didn't want to be seen.

It took a couple backtracks, but Remy finally stumbled upon a set of heavy, adamantium doors. With a security pad. He hadn't anticipated that. No matter; it would be easy enough to crack. A little powder and a black light should reveal the code. Just then, the silver doors opened to reveal a pissed-off-looking Wolverine.

"Didn't yer mama ever tell you not to go snoopin' around someone else's house?" he groused. In all honesty, though, Logan was thrilled the Cajun stranger was there. There was something off about him, and it wasn't just the bayou he reeked of.

"Certainly, _monsieur_. Unfortunately, my _pere_ told me otherwise," he replied smoothly.

Kid thinks he's smart, Wolverine mused. He wanted nothing more than to wipe the floor with him in the Danger Room but there were rules against non-X-Men using it. Too bad.

"How about you slither back from where you came from?"

"I apologize, _Monsieur Loup_, but you see I got bored hanging around my new room so I thought I'd explored. Didn't think I'd end up down here. My apologies, again," Remy apologized, bowing slightly.

"No, bub, I mean back to the swamp or wherever Rogue found you. You don't belong here, and you definitely don't belong here with her."

"As much as I would love to be with her," he said with a suggestive emphasis on "be," "we ain't like that. Just friends, or so she says. Me, I believe she's repressing herself." Remy had picked up right away that Wolverine was protective of Rogue from the way he suspiciously sized him up when he had arrived with the girl. Overprotective father figures were his specialty. He loved getting under their skins. He'd had plenty of practice with a certain father back home.

"'Sides," the Cajun continued, "I was invited here for an open-ended stay. Suppose I'll be stickin' around for a while den."

Logan snorted. "Rogue ain't about to fall for a smart-ass hobo like you. Maybe you should consider moving on sooner rather than later."

"We'll see what de lady has t' say," he said.

Then there were oncoming footsteps coming closer to the two men. They stopped their mini-standoff. Leading the group of ten was Iceman, or Bobby Drake as he had been introduced to Remy.

"All right, Logan. We're here. What's with the emergency drill?" he asked, eyeing Remy warily. Bobby, now a full-fledged member of the X-Men, was a co-manager of the recruits, splitting responsibilities with Kitty Pryde and Colossus.

"Keepin' you kids on your toes," he said shortly. Turning to Remy, he said, "I trust you can find yer way back to where you came from?"

"And miss de show?" He wanted a look at this Danger Room.

"Told you. Ain't polite to snoop. Now go." The students and other X-men, Colossus and Kitty among them, watched them, captivated.

"_Bien_," he conceded. "See y' 'round, den."

Logan made a sound in his throat that may have been perceived as a growl. Remy just smiled.

Turning his attention to the others, Logan started barking orders. "Get suited up, people."

"Uh, Logan," Bobby started.

"What?" he bit off.

"Maybe he could stay," he replied, nodding his head toward the retreating Gambit.

"As much as I would love to wipe the floor with his swampy ass, you know the rules, kid. X-Men only."

"Yeah, I know," Bobby said quickly. The vision of Gambit getting destroyed by Wolverine was just too good to pass up. "But we should see how tough this guy is. Or how tough he thinks he is. Think about it: We could see potentially how dangerous this guy could be. We don't know anything about him, except that he's Rogue's friend, which I don't buy. You saw her earlier when she came in with him. She was uncomfortable. And she was lying."

That much Wolverine was sure of. Maybe Popsicle had a point.

"Besides, he's a mutant. I'm sure he can handle it," Bobby concluded. The obvious hint of a challenge belied his breezy tone.

Logan had that glint in his eye that he often got right before he tore into a large, juicy steak. Then, he called to Gambit to return. This was going to be fun, Logan thought. And the rough mutant never described anything as fun.

The sparring had starting innocuously enough - jabbing, blocking, kicks thrown. Though their styles were drastically different Wolverine's was more brawl-like to Gambit's smoother, acrobatic style the two were closely matched. But when the metal claws came out and the electrified cards started to fly, Kitty knew it was time to call in backup.

Unnoticed, the petite girl phased out of the Danger Room.

***x***

Rogue was still at the fountain when Kitty found her. She had been making a mad dash around the house in search of her former teammate and slowed down when she finally found Rogue. The petite mutant was nervous. She and Rogue had never settled anything before Rogue left and had barely talked since she returned. Though Kitty had moved on to Colossus, she still felt awkward about approaching the girl whose ex-boyfriend she'd nearly kissed while said couple were still dating.

"Rogue?"

The taller mutant's head snapped up, her heavy thoughts pushed away by the sudden intrusion.

"Oh, uh, hey, Kitty." Her response was lackluster at best. Whatever Kitty wanted to say, she wasn't in the mood to deal with it. She was tired from the past couple days' action and the last thing she wanted to do was have "the talk" with the girl who had maybe tried to steal her boyfriend.

"Sorry to bother you," Kitty pressed on, "I just thought you should know that Logan's trying to kill your friend."

"What?" Kitty had her full attention now. "What do you mean 'kill'?" Rogue asked frantically.

"Logan and Gambit," Kitty hesitated on the newcomer's name the only name Rogue gave during his introduction, "are in the Danger Room. Um, fighting."

"Crap," was all Rogue said. She bit back a fierce urge to fly underground and break up the match. Instead, she brought broke out in a full run toward the mansion. Kitty followed, wordlessly.

***x***

Rogue entered the basement compound and saw magenta-colored cards flying all over with Wolverine weaving in and out of the charged pieces of paper being launched at him.

"Crap," she uttered before launching into action. She positioned herself in the middle of the dueling mutants and pushed Gambit out of the way. Unfortunately, a push from Rogue could now send someone clear across the room. Which is where Remy ended up.

There was a collective gasp from the audience that had gathered to see the Wolverine take on the new guy. Wolverine just eyed Rogue suspiciously as she looked on horrified. Old Rogue could have never done that. How would she explain?

"De _femme_ just don't know her own strength is all," Gambit groaned from across the room. She flashed him a grateful look. Then, she glared at Wolverine. "Ya'll should know better."

He harrumphed. "Kid was askin' for it, and I was just givin' it to him."

Rogue just shook her head and went to help up the crumpled Remy. As she came closer, Remy took in her covered-up appearance her flowing, knee-length skirt with calf-length boots and silk gloves that traveled just over her elbows. Only the dark tank top she wore corresponded with the warm summer weather outside. She was wearing a T-shirt and denim shorts and black Converses without socks when they arrived. And she had been wearing much less than that when they first met in the N'awlins jazz bar just a couple days ago.

"So this is how you stay in your room?" she accused as she offered him a gloved hand.

"Got bored, _chère_," he shrugged. "Ain't polite to leave a guest to their own devices. Y' got t' entertain them! Since y' bolted, I decided to entertain m'self."

Giving him a hand up, she replied wryly, "Remind me to never let you do any entertaining again."

"I'm wounded, _chère_." Though he meant it as a joke, Rogue saw him reach for his ribs and scowled.

She settled his arm across her shoulders, propping him up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he grimaced. "Think m' ribs are bruised."

It would be so much easier to throw him over her shoulders but she didn't need to call anymore attention to herself. So she gingerly led him to the med bay, which was conveniently located in the basement just down the hallway from the Danger Room.

"T'anks for de workout, _mon ami_," he called over his shoulder to Wolverine.

"Anytime time you feel like getting smacked around, let me know," he replied with a smile that could have been described as sardonic.

Rogue shot Logan a dirty look. "Let's go," she said as the duo slowly made their way to the hallway. Those left in the Danger Room heard Rogue harshly warn Gambit to keep his hands to himself.

"On m' best behavior. Promise," they heard the Cajun drawl in response.

"That's what you said earlier," came Rogue's reprimand.

While the rest of the X members and recruits found the exchange amusing, Bobby looked on, his brow furrowed.

***x***

A/N: Er, um, not much Romy action here. I'm just as disappointed. Next time!


	7. Dangerous Liaisons

A/N: Aaaand here it is. So sorry for the delay.

***x***

"What on earth were ya thinkin'? Ah ask you ta stay in your room and you end up in the Danger Room with Wolverine. What the hell?"

Rogue's blood was boiling as she entered Med Bay with an injured Gambit. He tried to brush off the need for medical assistance but she wanted to take him somewhere less public to give him a piece of her mind before the mansion's resident doctor Hank McCoy arrived. She couldn't decide what she was angrier at - his disobedience or his arrogance. Things were already bad, and he was making them worst.

He shrugged as she instructed him to sit on one of the beds. "Got bored. Wanted t' explore. Didn't feel like waitin' for you t' get back," he casually explained, gingerly setting his bruised body on the bed. "Y' know, it ain't nice t' make your guests stay in they rooms, _chère_. Ain't polite."

She barked an exasperated laugh. "Ain't polite? Ya wanna know what's also impolite? Guests who pick fights with their hosts!"

"I didn't pick de fight. De Wolf Man wanted t' see what I could do, so I showed him. Really wasn't anything more than that," he said as he flicked with a five of spades between his nimble fingers. She wondered when he had had the chance to take one out. "I tell ya what, though. Why y' so concerned, _hein_? Maybe y' don't wanna see Remy hurt? 'm sensin' a pattern here."

"Ah didn't risk my neck ta bring ya here only ta have you killed less than twenty-four hours later," she spat. "Kinda like ta think that me disobeying Sinister wasn't for nothing. Get it?"

"Oh, I got it, _chère_. Can't get enough already. Kinda flattered, actually," he preened. "Tell me something," he said, leaning toward her and trying not to wince. His ribs were starting to burn. "When do I get t' meet y' in de Danger Room?"

The words were spoken in a straight-forward manner but his eyes suggested something else entirely. Rogue flushed slightly.

"You don't," she said pointedly.

"I see," he said. "So now that I got y' all t' m'self, what's de plan?"

"The plan is for you ta stay out of trouble until this thing with Sinister is over. Then you are going back ta where you belong." She started pacing the area in front of his bed.

"Tryin' t' get rid of me already? I just got here," he said with a wink. "Not to mention 'm injured. Y' really are de worst hostess ever," he added.

She paused in her tread to look at his smirking face. His smile was slightly crooked, and his sweat-tinged hair hung attractively in his face. Looking at him like that sent a small tremor through her already-tense body. As part of her reawakening while living with Mystique, the blue mutant had taught her the finer points of dating. Looking back, Rogue realized Raven had been priming her to use her body for the greater good, but at the time, Rogue had thought she was helping her learn about the opposite sex. Because that's what mothers did for their daughters, she thought bitterly. Regardless of the reasoning for it, the lessons led to Rogue going on dates with a few guys and some of those outings had even led to kisses from her suitors. None of those men, Rogue thought, made her feel like Gambit did, despite knowing him for only a couple days and his apparent pleasure in getting under her skin as often as possible.

Resuming her tracks, she asked skeptically, "Thought ya said you weren't hurt?"

Five of spades gone, his now-unoccupied hand out reached out to loosely grip her forearm as he halted her steps. With the same lopsided grin, he responded, "I may be slightly tender, but I could be sorer if it gets me more time with y', _chère_."

"That charm, if that's what you can call it, is that natural, or ya have ta work at it?" Please say it's an act, she silently pleaded. His hand was burning her skin even though it was covered by her silk gloves.

His ruby pupils seemingly shimmered, his one auburn eyebrow cocked. "You sayin it's workin'?"

She answered no, but she could hardly concentrate as he tugged her to sit down next to him. His fingers lingered on her arm.

"Aw, _chère_," he said, making his breath labored as if had actually received a blow to the chest, "can't take dis constant rejection." She aligned herself next to him nervously, leaving a few inches of space between them. Though she didn't have to worry about her natural absorption power, there were other ways of being absorbed into somebody. Like through the heart, Rogue thought nervously.

"Ah'm sure you'll heal right quick, Swamp Rat," she said.

"And y' just keep slingin' de insults," he groaned. "How much is a man supposed t' take?" The words will spoken plainly enough, but the Cajun made everything sound like an inappropriate innuendo. His fingers continued its light exploration of her silky forearm.

"So what's wit' de gloves? Fashion statement?"

She shrugged. "Mansion's air conditioning gets cold."

His cleared his throat in a way that indicated his disbelief. "Dis about what y' said earlier? 'Bout dem not knowing you anymore?"

Rogue decided to choose her words carefully. She tucked a lock of white hair behind an ear with her one free hand. "Ah took the Cure initially ta turn off my primary power, which is absorption. Through skin-ta-skin contact, Ah can take in the thoughts, memories and emotions of anyone," she said. "And if they're mutants, Ah can absorb their powers."

There was a split-second break in the smooth rhythm Remy had been playing on her arm before he resumed his soothing path. If Rogue hadn't been hyper-aware of his touch, she wouldn't have even noticed it. She looked at him curiously.

"How long can y' sustain these attributes?"

"Depends on how long the contact is," she replied. Images of the life force being drained from Carol Danvers by her own hands poured through her mind's eye. She prayed the blonde mutant stayed within her psychic bond.

"I see," he said, processing the newfound information. "And when de Cure failed, y' went to Essex."

She nodded. She still wasn't prepared to give Remy, or anyone, the full disclosure of her time away. What Remy now knew would be enough. "In a nutshell," she concluded.

He leveled her with a serious look. Their heads were only inches from each other. His hand continued its lazy rhythm. "You in an awful lot of trouble, _chère_."

"Seems ta be a pattern in mah life." Her breathing hitched a bit. With her spilling her guts and Remy's persistent need to touch her, she was having a hard time pulling herself together.

"Makes life interesting, that's for sure," he said, seemingly unaware that he was slowly undermining the beauty in front of him.

"Ah guess. Suppose it could be worse," she contemplated. "Suppose Ah could be a no-good mutant who escaped one kidnapping only toa be kidnapped by another mutant."

"But, _chère_," he said, leaning in. "Dis be de best kidnapping I ever had."

"Suppose ya got experience in this sorta thing then?" She had meant the kidnapping but recognized the double entendre as soon as it left her mouth.

"Find out, hm?" He was about to close the rapidly-decreasing gap between their lips before Rogue interjected, her heart beating wildly.

"Maybe you should lie back until Dr. McCoy gets here," she suggested, her breathing now becoming ragged. If she could get his lips away from hers, she'd be able to collect her thoughts.

"'m fine," he murmured. "Feelin' better actually." His lips drifted even closer to hers at such a leisurely pace now, Rogue wondered if his intent was to actually kiss her, or just toy with her.

And then, she felt his warm lips cover hers. This kiss was so much different than the chaste kiss she used to knock him out when they first met, and so much more arousing than any other kisses she had ever had in her life. Including the passionate embrace she shared with Bobby at his parents house in Boston that had been the culmination of months of restraint.

It was also different in the sense that she hadn't expected Remy to be respectful. He lightly nibbled and sucked on her lips before his tongue slipped into her mouth. She knew she shouldn't be kissing him back but she couldn't make herself stop. She responded to every move his lips made and found her body leaning toward his. She let out a small gasp of pleasure when the hand that had been caressing her arm slid to the underside of her breast. She reached for the back of his head, entwining her hand through his overgrown auburn shag. Despite all her instincts screaming at her to stop, to leave the room, she couldn't tear herself away. She had never experienced this sort of passion before, never thought it was possible. Even after the Cure, and Essex's self-seeking help, she swore she wouldn't willingly let herself get this close to another person. The walls she had built were too high, too thick. But this man, Remy - Gambit, whatever he chose to call himself managed a way in, at least partially. What was happening, her mind cried, as she sunk more deeply into the embrace.

Hank chose that moment to enter the room, puncturing the tension. Rogue jumped away from Remy quickly, careful not to charge out of the room flying at Danvers' super-sonic speed.

***x***

How could she be so stupid? Rogue had been berating herself for the 10 minutes since she left the med bay. Sure, she could kiss Remy without life-or-death consequences (although in reality, that kiss had meant so much), but Hank would wonder why she would take the chance. She could have blew her own cover. And for what? A kiss? A kiss that most likely meant nothing to him? She mentally chastised herself for being so careless.

She had waved off Hank's assurance that she could stay during the examination to keep Remy company but she had an overwhelming need to leave the room, to leave Remy, immediately. The ladies' man that his file claimed he was, Remy was probably used to women falling all over him. And now she was one of those women.

She found herself mindlessly wandering into the girls' wing, apparently en route to her room. Her subconscious was obviously pleading with her to take a break and regroup. Clear her mind, perhaps, and absolutely _not_ think about her kiss with Remy. She sighed knowing it would be difficult task.

She was almost to her door when she heard someone call her name. It was Kitty.

No, I am so not in the mood for this, she thought. Taking a breath, she greeted the pint-size brunette.

"Hey, Kitty."

Kitty approached hesitantly. Nothing had been cleared up, and she was certain Rogue was still holding a grudge. But she had to try. She didn't want to feel guilty anymore. "Everything okay with Gambit?" she asked tentatively.

"Uh, yeah," Rogue said absently. She was tired, and confused, and she did not want to have this conversation right now. "Hank is takin' a look at him right now. Probably just has some bruising ta his ribs. That's all."

"Oh, that's good to hear. It seemed like Logan really had it out for him," Kitty said. "Well, that's Logan. Great with the first impressions."

"Yeah, right," Rogue replied, attempting half-hearted laugh. Although, she was right. Logan hated most people on sight. Trust very much had to be earned for him to even deem anyone worthy enough of any semblance of respect.

Thinking the conversation was over, Kitty wished her a goodnight and started toward her room at the other end of the wing when Rogue called out to her. "Hey, Kitty?"

Rogue waited for the petite mutant turned around. "Thanks," she said. "For earlier. Ya know, coming ta get me about the fight."

Kitty smiled. "No problem. If it were me, I'd want to know." She paused before continuing, seemingly articulating in her head what she wanted to say. "Rogue," she began. "I'm sorry about Bobby. And me. It was so stupid, and it didn't mean anything. I felt awful afterward. I never meant to hurt you."

Rogue sighed softly. "Ah, Ah know. There was a lot going on then, and in truth, Bobby and Ah were drifin' apart anyway. What happened wasn't the reason Ah left. Ah hope ya don't think that."

"I did," Kitty admitted. "At least a small part of me did. It made me worse. You were my friend, and I didn't want you to think that I didn't care about your feelings."

"Ah know," she responded. "Besides, all's well that ends well. That's the saying, right? Ah mean, Pete is a fine male specimen."

"Yeah, I like him," Kitty said slyly, pink tinging her cheeks. "I'm glad you're back, Rogue."

***x***

Remy finally convinced the fussy Dr. McCoy that he was fine and was suffering from nothing more than a couple bruised ribs that would be sore for the next few days and a bruised ego. He allowed the blue hulking doctor with the pleasant dispostion to tape his ribs up but refused any sort of pain reliever. Remy was never one to hide from pain. He was liked to indulge in the pinch and the sting each and every bruise or scrape as a lesson to not let it happen again. Your next loss could be your death, his father had always warned.

It was a stupid allowing Wolverine to take that swipe at him. He'd been a half-second too slow and had gotten clawed by the feral mutant. Just enough of the adamantium tips tore through his skin to draw blood. Hank had cleaned out the four abrasions and applied topical antibiotics to the wound and bandaged it before taping his ribs.

He promised when McCoy pointedly ordered him to take it easy and avoid strenuous activity. "I'm afraid you'll have to avoid any form of direct-contact activity for the next week or so. Limit your time around Wolverine, perhaps?"

"Yeah, y' tellin' me, _mon ami_," he scoffed.

He finally left Med Bay, desperately in need of a cigarette. He slowly made his way back to his room to grab a pack of cigarettes. He found his way to the mansion's garden, just off the side of the residence. He was in need of some privacy.

He lit the end of the cigarette with a small charge from his fingers as his mind drifted to Rogue. Her lips on his was an unbelieveable sensation. There was something about her that drew him in. Pursuing Rogue was the last thing he should be doing but he felt an invisible pull toward her. And then there was their situation with Essex. There was no doubt he'd come after them. It was only a matter of when. Despite her claim of security with the X-Men, Remy knew it wouldn't keep the scientist away for long. Sinister was too ruthless, too determined, to be underminded for long.

He'd been dragged away from New Orleans by Rogue almost forty-eight hours ago. His family would be wondering where he was.

Taking one last drag, he threw the butt to the ground and snubbed it his foot. He withdraw a small, non-descript cell phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. Someone answered on the other end.

"'m in. Tell _Père_," Remy said. Then, he hung up.


	8. Tenuous Bonds

She entered the underground compound, alert and counting the minutes until she could leave. It wasn't her first time at the abandoned warehouse - one of the many places where he conducted his work - and, begrudgingly, it wouldn't be her last. Always for the greater good, she'd convinced herself.

The space was conspicuously empty, or at least that was the way he wanted it to appear. Raven knew better, of course. Sinister was not a careless man.

She advanced downward until she reached the basement level, on guard for unforeseen attacks. Besides surveillance cameras that had been keeping track of her every move upon entering, she encountered none of Sinister's usual sentry. It was odd, and it made her want to carry out her business with even more haste.

She located him in one of the laboratories. This one was smaller than his typical setup and darkly lit, save for the lamps arranged by his work station. It almost felt… more intimate, if a laboratory could ever be described in such a way.

Forgoing a greeting, she narrowed her eyes, and announced her presence with an annoyed edge to her voice. "You know she's with _them._"

"I suspected as much," the scientist with pallid skin, jet black hair and menacing blood-red eyes conceded, not bothering to look up from his microscope. "Shouldn't be too difficult for a skilled shape shifter like yourself."

"Of course not," she scoffed. "You realize, though, that any move made against her now is a move made against the X-Men."

"I'm well aware, and I'm not concerned." He added a drop of blood to a new slide and placed it under his microscope.

"Nor am I," she replied. The identity of the blood's owner flitted through her mind. A "donation" from one of the countless mutants he was blackmailing, she assumed, her tenuous maternal side hoping it wasn't Rogue's. "Who is the miscreant she's with? One of yours, I presume?" The distaste in her voice could barely be contained.

"An associate of mine who has lost his way," he murmured, distracted. Whatever experiment he was involved with held his attention more than his tête-à-tête with the red-headed azure-skinned mutant.

"So, he's trouble." Mystique didn't bother phrasing it as a question. She already knew that anyone wanted so badly by Essex could only be problematic for her adopted daughter.

Essex shrugged. "Trouble is in the eye of the beholder."

"Let me spell it out for you," she hissed, leaning over the counter and putting her face inches from his. She was close enough to discern the razor sharp edges of his pearly-white teeth. "If my daughter suffers so much as a paper cut while around _him_, I'll see to it personally that he is no longer useful to anyone."

He tsked, unperturbed by her threat. "Raven, I didn't realize you cared so much about your… daughter." He said it mockingly, angering her to the point where she wanted to take the knife hidden in her boot and stab him through the heart. The caveat being she was fairly certain the ruthless geneticist had no heart to pierce.

"Rogue is my daughter, regardless of the circumstances," she reaffirmed sharply, preparing to leave. "She will never truly be lost to me."

She almost made it out the laboratory when he called after her, his attention finally diverted from his work.

"Darkholme," he called, his red eyes gleaming in the dim lighting. "I want them _both_."

***x***

She found Remy in the garden. Darkness had long since fallen and it had been hours since she had left him in Med Bay without so much as a goodbye as she scurried to put as much distance between them and their impulsive kiss. If it was up to her, she'd put even more space between them but he was a guest (and on the run), and if his ending up in the Danger Room was any indication, it wasn't wise to leave him alone for too long.

He picked up on her new presence right away. "Well, if it ain't de miraculous disappearin' _femme_. Was wondering when she'd show up next," he drawled, cigarette in hand.

She stepped into the garden with him, ready to make her acknowledge her earlier behavior. "Before ya say anything, Ah wanted to apologize," she started.

"No need," he interjected, effectively cutting her off.

Sucking in a breath, she realized he wasn't going to let her off so easily. "Okay, then, how about this: Thank you," she said.

Curious and slightly suspicious, Remy took the bait. "For what?"

"For distracting them in the Danger Room," she said, "after Ah threw you."

"How could I forget?" he grinned, gently patting his ribs with his other hand. "I'll stick t' m' word s'long as y' stick t' yours." Rogue remembered his veiled threat in the car about making her regret any sort of double cross.

"Ah intend to, don't you worry," she said. The air hung between as she started to feel uncomfortable. "Sooo, ya like flowers, or something?"

He looked at her, quizzically. She shrugged. "You been out here awhile."

His ruby and coal eyes narrowed slightly. "Y' keepin' tabs now?"

"No," she replied swiftly. "If Ah leave you alone for too long, you seem ta find trouble."

"Even when y' don't, I find it anyway, hm?" His lips turned up in a half smile. She blushed but not for lack of trying not to. "There a reason you were tryin' t' apologize for that kiss when you came out here?" he asked.

"Ah wasn't apologizin' for the kiss," she said, choosing her words carefully. "Just for jettin' so quickly."

Cigarette long since extinguished, he leaned his body lightly against a nearby trellis. "Go on."

"Like Ah told you when we arrived here, they," she said, gesturing to the mansion, "think Ah'm back because the Cure wore off. They think Ah can't touch. And Ah didn't want to be caught in the act of … touchin'. Makes it hard ta explain."

Remy looked amused. "Depends on y' explanation, I'd imagine."

"What do you mean?"

"Seein' as we may be stuck with each other for awhile, we may as well get t' each other better." Rogue expected a leer to accompany the words, but Gambit's face looked earnest. He gestured for her to sit down one of the marble benches. A white rose mysteriously appeared in his hand as he extended it to her. Before she could process what had happened, he'd already resumed his place by the trellis.

"Ah, uh," she began, clearly flustered by his impromptu gift as she shyly accepted it. "Well, you already know mah story, for the most part."

"Sure, y' took de Cure and bolted. Returned when your 'powers came back,' " he said, using air quotations. "Got that part. Why'd y' get de Cure in de first place?"

"It's complicated," she replied, knowing it was a weak excuse.

"So y' said."

She looked down at the snow-white rose in her hand. The only rose she had ever received was one made of ice. There was still a part of her that was embarrassed about getting the Cure for her boyfriend. The same boyfriend that had feelings for another girl. While she may have gotten the Cure for herself, the clincher was her relationship with Bobby.

"You know, ya never did say why Sinister wanted you. So, Gambit," she said, biting off his name, "what exactly is your connection with Essex?"

If the question startled him, he didn't let on. In fact, he had an irritating way of turning the focus back to her.

"Please,_ chère_, it's Remy," he volleyed smoothly, "and it's probably very similar to your situation."

"Maybe," she shrugged, "but it doesn't answer _my_ question."

"Sure, it does," he replied, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a small charge. "Owe him a job. Same as you."

"What kind of job?" She watched him take a drag. Being the experienced con man and thief he was, any tells were nearly nonexistent. However, his nicotine dependence was a dead-giveaway that their conversation was unsettling to him.

He let out a low chuckle. "Well, that I don't know, _chère_. Our meeting got interrupted."

She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise, catching on to his ask-but-still-don't-tell game. "Imagine that."

He exhaled from another drag. "Guess those t'ings happen."

"And here, Ah thought we were havin' share time."

"Thought so, too, but someone here don't feel much like sharin', it seems."

"Yeah," she sighed, "someone here sure doesn't."

They looked at each other - she from her seat on the bench, he from his slouch against the trellis - as each waiting for the other to start talking. Their silent face-off wasn't so much as intimidating as it was intense. Rogue was finding it more and more challenging to ignore the burgeoning attraction she found herself feeling for Gambit. There was no reason she should fall for someone like him but… He was just like her, she reasoned. They had similar backgrounds and a similar reluctance to share personal details. Clearly, they both struggled with matters involving trust. It was a match made in insecurity.

Rogue broke her silence first.

"As informative as this evening has been, Cajun, Ah'm going inside," she said abruptly. "Thanks for the flower," she added, her voice baring a hint of sarcasm.

He reached for her wrist, though she'd have sworn she never saw him move. "Not so fast, _chère_. We're just getting started." Pulling her to him, his cigarette since abandoned, he placed a palm on her hip and angled her toward him.

She was startled but she'd be damned if she let on. She arched an eyebrow. "You gonna start talkin'?"

She could feel the heat from his face on hers. Somehow his breath held no trace of the cigarette he had just smoked. Their proximity reminded her of their earlier kiss, and sense memory threatened to sear her body. "Are you?" he challenged.

"You can't keep deflecting, Gambit," she said, deliberately defying his wish for her to call him by his given name. "You said we should get ta know each other, and yet, you refuse ta answer anything about yourself. Doesn't seem very fair."

He made a noise in his throat. "But it's give and take, Rogue. Believe I asked y' a question you wouldn't answer."

"Ah didn't refuse ta answer!" she argued, her accent thickening a bit. "Ah told ya before Ah wasn't ready ta talk about mah past."

Gambit gave her a pointed look. "Seems y' know more 'bout me. Y' got that fancy file and all. Tell me somethin': You miss bein' one of them?" he questioned, gesturing toward the X-mansion.

"Not really," she replied crisply. "You miss being a Thief? The file mentioned you were exiled from the Thieves Guild. But really, that just raises another question: Why exactly was a former member in the very city he's been exiled from?"

"Tyin' up loose ends," he fired back. "If y'r not missin' de X way of life, why'd y' come back?"

She shrugged dismissively, trying to radiate the nonchalance she did not feel. "Needed a place ta stay for awhile. Did your loose ends have anything ta do with Essex?"

"Not a t'hing. You 'cure' y'rself for y' popsicle boyfriend?"

Stunned, she jerked herself from his grasp. "Ah'm leavin' now," she huffed. How on earth did he know about Bobby? she wondered furiously.

Amused, Gambit offered her a goodbye. "Sweet dreams, beautiful. Sharin' wasn't so bad after all, _hein_?"

Gambit heard a mumbled curse, no doubt directed at him, as he watched her retreat into the mansion before retrieving, from his pocket, the key card he had just swiped from her.

***x***  
A/N: Seems like everyone's up to something in this chapter. And it's the second chapter that ends with Gambit being shifty. Hmm… Thanks for staying tuned.


	9. Infiltration

A/N: I'm lame, so lame. I got a new job and have been all wrapped up in life. This story, however, is still very much with me. Just having trouble getting the words down on paper, as it were.

And a special thank-you to the last few reviewers who helped me get my butt into gear. It helps.

***x***

Rogue stalked through the first floor of the mansion, seething about Gambit's presumption of her relationship with Bobby. As if he could possibly know the deciding factors of such a life-changing decision. Her anger escalated with each step toward her second-floor bedroom. So what if Gambit knew about her former flame? she mentally chided. It stung when he had bluntly guessed the reason she took the failed Cure in the first place. She loathed admitting it but she knew it was the truth. She had seen Bobby drawing closer to Kitty, the pretty, petite brunette who could touch. It didn't make her better than Rogue but it did make her more attractive to the untouchable girl's boyfriend.

She reached into a pocket for the key card Logan had given her earlier, remembering his words.

"_In case you feel like working off some aggression," he had said. _

"_But Ah'm not a…" she started._

_He cut her off with a grunt. "Yer still an X-Man, kid. Even if yer not wearin' the uniform."_

She wondered how Wolverine would feel knowing about her affiliation with Essex. Or her time spent bonding with Mystique. Memories of draining Carol Danvers dry played in her head as she thought of Logan, the man who had grudgingly saved her from life as a runaway, the man who served as a pseudo-father figure. What would he think of the young, scared girl who had run away from her life and responsibilities to cohabit with a terrorist, almost kill another mutant for her powers, make a deal with a mad scientist and kidnap a fellow mutant?

Logan was a lot of things, but he wasn't a traitor.

She let out a frustrated sigh as she searched the pockets of her camel-colored jacket for the card. She was sure she put it in a side pocket after he handed it to her. In the privacy of her room, she yanked off the garment to turn all the pockets inside out. And then she recalled the catalyst of her distress – Remy. After talking to Logan, she had gone looking for the thief, finally locating him in the garden. She gasped audibly and narrowed her eyes in anger. He was playing his natural role of the thief, and she had been his mark.

She already knew to be wary around him, and he had validated her mounting suspicions with a simple sleight of hand.

***x***

Remy maneuvered the black key card between his fingers, turning it over and over again as he calculated his next move. It had almost been too easy getting Rogue close enough to pick her pocket. He had seen the wolf man hand the smooth plastic card over to her earlier and bided his time until Rogue came looking for him. He knew she wouldn't leave him alone for too long.

Still… he felt uneasy, a foreign feeling to the native thief. His mind drifted to his earlier phone call home to N'awlins, to his brother Henri.

"_Any idea on what 'xactly 'm lookin' for here?"_

"_Still workin' on it," his brother answered. "Dat t'ing, what's it called? Cerebro? Dat's gotta be it, _non_?"_

"_Seems so. What else has de kind of power she'd want?" Remy considered his answer. "Den again, word is, only mind readers can use it."_

"_Den y' better get a spook while y'r at it, _frère_."_

The Thieves Guild was known worldwide for its discreet expertise in obtaining valuable hard-to-locate items.

One thing Remy knew for certain – what Candra wanted, she always received. And when the immortal External requested "The Source," the Thieves Guild of New Orleans had no choice but to supply it, whatever "it" was. The ageless benefactress had appeared as was normal when there was something she needed. Sometimes she was specific about what she desired, other times she was vague. "The Source," as she called it could be anything, really. A source of power, wealth, knowledge… but if Candra wanted it, Remy could only assume it was grand-scale power she wanted.

"_So, how did y' manage t' infiltrate de X-Men?" Henri asked after a beat, his curiosity spiked. "You weren't set t' go under for 'nother week."_

_Remy sighed. "Long story, _frère_."_

It was true. His scheduled infiltration wasn't for eight days. As fate would have it (as the fickle lady would so often intercede in the thief's life), once the storied X mansion came into view from his seat in Rogue's convertible, he knew he was right to sit back and let the strange mutant girl take him for a road trip up the East Coast and let the cards fall where they may.

It didn't hurt that she was beautiful.

Was it also fate that the girl, Rogue, was also being hunted by Sinister? What were the odds, he mused. Being a regular gambler, Remy recognized Fate when he saw Her…

***x***

He waited until he was sure the mansion's occupants were asleep or otherwise occupied before making his move. He treated like the job it was. The key card he lifted from Rogue had to be done, reasoning that he didn't see anything wrong with holding her close during their heated _tête-à-tête_. The master thief knew an opportunity when he saw one. He ignored the fact that he had genuinely been enjoying his time with Rogue as brusque and confusing as she could be. She intrigued him in a way that very few people could. He was inexplicably drawn to her from the beginning. Sure, her beauty attracted his attention immediately, but there was something else that made him to take notice and kept him hanging on – her determination. The tactile emotion oozed from her pores. He recognized in Rogue a kindred spirit.

True, he had taken the card to enter the subbasement chamber where Cerebro was kept but he needed access to the device's files. Given enough time, he was confident he could override the mansion's security protocols but he wasn't looking to attract any undue attention. There were those in the mansion who already didn't trust him, and Gambit didn't need to add to their suspicions. He prayed to the saints the filched plastic had permission to enter the room that held the complex machine created by the late, great telepath Charles Xavier to track mutants around the world.

From what he had been able to glean from his sources, the intricate system was a database of sorts, cataloging every mutant Xavier had ever located. The thief wasn't sure it was what Candra wanted, but it was as good a place to start than any. If not a complete listing of hundreds, possibility thousands, of mutants and their powers, Gambit wasn't sure what else the External could want.

A flash drive mysteriously appearing from the sleeve of his trademark trench coat, Gambit inserted the thumb-sized storage device into the main hard drive and began downloading Xavier's comprehensive files.

He had been approached by Xavier himself only a few years ago but he had declined the professor's offer to help him control his powers. He was moving up the ranks of the Guild, determined to earn his mark, and quite frankly, he couldn't picture himself running around in spandex, playing superhero. The hero role was not meant for _Le Diable Blanc_, he thought ruefully.

His download was a few minutes away from being complete when a familiar name, followed by a profile, appeared on the screen.

"_Merde_."

***x***

As soon as Cerebro's contents had been successfully copied, Gambit left the room as stealthily entered it.

He navigated his way back to the room he was assigned in darkness, his ruby-and-charcoal eyes fully equipped for night vision. He silently made his way up two floors and slinked through the hallways, unnoticed. As he opened the door to his quarters, he immediately felt her presence.

The room was dark but the slivers from the full moon's radiance cascaded through the balcony doors. He could see her perched stiffly atop the bed. "How was your midnight stroll?" She tried to keep her voice steady but he could hear a hint of accusation lacing her words.

After the intensity of their last encounter he was surprised to see her again so soon, quickly concluding that she knew her access card was missing. Fortunately, he already ditched the thin piece of plastic in the garden.

His shoulders lifted in what Rogue made out to be a nonchalant shrug. "Can't a guy have a midnight smoke?"

"Your room has a balcony," she pointed out. "Felt like another self-guided tour of the mansion?"

"It's a nice house," he offered.

She snorted in disbelief.

"Dere a reason you're here, and in m' bed?" Although she couldn't quite make out his face, save for his bright eyes, she could hear the smirk.

"Ah am not _in_ your bed, swamp rat," she snapped, trying to keep her anger in check. Her fingers were digging into his bed sheets. "Ah was waiting for you."

"Well, 'm flattered, I really am, but it's been a long day, _chère_, and I t'ink 'm ready t' call it a night." He reached out his arm in an attempt to usher her out the door. She crossed her arms and bunkered down even more.

"Ah'm not leavin' until Ah get some answers."

"_You_ brought _me_ here, _chère, _and now y' decide not t' trust me. Ret'inking dat decision?" he sneered. He was not in the mood to go another round with her. Especially in light of the information he'd just obtained.

She reached her arm out, brazenly attempting to access one of his trench coat's many pockets.

He took her move in stride and moved back a step. "Know de _femmes_ have trouble keepin' they hands off me. Y' provin' 'em right."

"Where is it?" she demanded, undeterred.

He grabbed her covered hands. "Stop, _chère_. Nothin' in dere for you." His tone was stern, his gaze hard.

"The key card, Gambit," she hissed. "Ah want it back. And then you're gonna tell me why you took it. Who _are_ you?" She was glaring at him, anger surging through her veins.

"Didn't take not'ing," he huffed. "And I don't appreciate you grabbin' for whatever it is y' say y'r missing. Unless y' willing t' play nice, _chère_, hands _off_."

His guarded nonchalance only stoked her anger into frustrated fury.

And then, somehow, their lips crashed into each other, their hands latching onto the other's heads, each pulling the other closer. She wasn't sure if she made the first move, or if he did. It didn't matter, though. The heat of his lips was enough to make her forget why she was so mad. Why she was in his room. Why she didn't trust him.

His fingers wove into her soft strands of hair, pulling her closer. Slipping into her mouth, his tongue met with hers and he deepened the kiss. The heat building within him threatened to scorch him alive. He felt like he was being continuously struck by lightening. His insides felt as if they were being fried from the inside out as he struggled to maintain conscious thought. He drew back sluggishly, as she jerked back.

"What are you?" He was woozy. His thoughts were disjointed, and his body felt weak. He was about to crack a weak joke about her kiss leaving him weak in the knees, but he knew that it was more than lust leaving him shaky. Had she just absorbed him? Used the very power she claimed to despise?

Rogue froze. She had just absorbed him. She had slipped. She never slips. Not for a long time. And he had realized it before her. She tried to make sense of her muddled thoughts as she grappled containing the tentacles of Gambit's personality reaching for hers.

She was reeling, her heartbeat increasingly rising. The missing card was forgotten completely.

***x***

A dark figure prowled along the bottom of the high concrete walls surrounding the X-Mansion's sprawling property. By hugging the thick structure, the figure avoided being recorded by the mansion's security cameras. The moon's fullness helped illuminate the way to the ultimate destination.

Against the wall, the figure's shadow, which had been curvy and lithe, took on a sturdier shape, taller, and decidedly less feminine.

A touch of an index finger upon the digital pad was all Mystique needed to gain entrance to Xavier Institute for Higher Learning.


End file.
